


Basement

by amaltheasshole



Category: Slender Man Mythos, Whisperedfaith - Fandom
Genre: Character Study, Murder, Religious Guilt, Withdrawal, concussion, does it count as religious abuse if you were talked to by God himself, sean one of the possessed raging homosexuals, this is the death and destruction I was referring to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaltheasshole/pseuds/amaltheasshole
Summary: Being locked in a basement alone with his thoughts. Sean would normally be fine with this, that is, if the speaker was with him.





	Basement

**Author's Note:**

> I will fill this fucking fandom tag myself if I have to

"Get back here and kill me!" Sean screamed, pulling against the restraints on his hands. He could hear Lee laughing as he shut the doors to the basement.

It suddenly felt quiet. Much too quiet for his liking. Lee had been right, he was so used to the speaker talking to him in one way or another. At one point it was so bad, all he could hear half the time was the speaker's voice.

He felt his skin starting to crawl, mostly from fear of the unknown. He was so used to knowing exactly what to do. It was usually all the speaker talked to him about. What to do next, what he should be doing, what he should have done, what not to do.

He figured someone would come soon, but by the time they would, the damage would already be done. Plus, since Lee had escaped the place, that meant that Lexx has also escaped. And if she was the one to come for him, shit would go down.

He figured his best option would be to try and wear down and sever the zip ties on his wrists. But trying to sever something on a steel pole wouldn't be very easy and would take a long time to complete. He tried to move the zip ties but pulling the string in some way, but it made them tighter and now he had another problem.

He felt his breath start to get quicker. All the anxiety from before he joined the "cult" (He never considered it a cult. It was just people seeking truth.) came back to him at once. He never really felt anxious ever since the speaker started assuring him of everything.

He felt like screaming might help in some way or another, but it was a stupid idea and a waste of time. If anything it would just amuse Lee if he could hear Sean from down here.

Maybe if he hit his head against the pole enough, he would die. Kind of like how great white sharks do when kept in captivity. Maybe not the fastest solution, but a solution at the least. He took a deep breath before he slammed the back of his head against the pole. He felt a sharp pain vibrate through his skull. He repeated the action until he could feel skin break and blood drip down the back of his neck. He tried to keep going, but he suddenly felt extremely tired and didn't feel much strength left in his body.

He figured once his strength would return he would do it again until he could fracture his skull, but right now he felt like he might have a wicked concussion

He started laughing. God, he was pathetic. Caught in such a fucking bullshit trap. He deserved the shit coming to him, for sure. Maybe death wasn't what he deserved. Maybe rotting down here was enough.

He felt sick. Maybe he would rot down here. Maybe he wouldn't die of being killed, but die of starvation or maybe the injury on his neck would get infected. He wouldn't be surprised.

Speak of the devil, he felt something on the the back of his neck, that definitely wasn't blood. He shook his head to try and get it off, and saw a fly buzz around his head. For fucks sake, he couldn't stand bugs. And now, one is probably gonna be the thing to kill him in some way. Pathetic.

He leaned his head back, looking up, feeling pain in his neck from the wound. He wished he would die already. He laughed. He remembered feeling like that a long time ago. In fact, that was exactly when the speaker first spoke to him. He figured something else was going on and figured maybe she should go to a doctor, but the speaker assured him he need not bother. So he didn't. He trusted the voice, strangely enough.

He saw many things the speaker showed him. Mostly death. It was usually death. Mostly of people around him. Sometimes when he walked around on the streets, the speaker would point to someone and show him exactly how they would die. It never really bothered him unless it was a disgusting death. He was once shown someone ho was torn apart by rabid animals (he assumed they were some kind of wild dogs) and he felt gross. Once someone was tortured. Burned with the hot end of a crack pipe, injected with strange liquids, branded, and had their bones broken. He felt like he was gonna be sick.

He didn't mind death anymore. Not of the people around him at least. He forgot he would die as well.

It started getting worse when he was told to kill others. It was when he killed Lexx's dumbass boyfriend. It was for a good cause, but it didn't matter. The speaker told him to, and he didn't question it. He never questioned the speaker.

He remembered the times he killed innocent (At least he thought they were. The speaker never said if they were or not.) passerbys because he was told to without a second thought, the first time he questioned what the speaker ordered him to do, he suffered for it. A trip to the hospital and a four day suicide watch later, he never considered doubting the speaker.

He laughed remembering how stupid he was when he was younger. Questioning someone who would make him a god.

He felt his vision start to blur slightly. Maybe he actually gave himself a concussion. He felt his breath start to leave his lungs, and started breathing heavily again.

He tried to take his mind off the symptoms of concussion (Or maybe he was going through withdrawal.) so he thought of all the times he was told to kill someone.

The first one was the time he doubted the speaker. After he was released from the hospital, bandages stuck on both his arms, he immediately listened to the speaker's demands, and grabbed one of his old hunting knives. It was quite easy to break a persons ribs, he had learned.

The second time, he didn't even second guess himself. He did as he was told, and snapped the kids neck.

The third time, he did what he was told without any hesitation whatsoever. He went to a pawn shop and bought a pistol. Two shots, one in the chest, and the other to the head.

He felt his strength start to come back and sighed, smiling. Maybe now he could kill himself.


End file.
